


A Nocturne of Memories

by TannerWuuut



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Chopin - Freeform, Established Relationship, F/F, Memories, Piano, SAD AS SHIT, and major character death cuz Margaery is dead to begin with, honestly this is just sad and I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 04:10:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19738036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TannerWuuut/pseuds/TannerWuuut
Summary: Honestly...I don't even know. But have a good read?https://youtu.be/p29JUpsOSTE





	A Nocturne of Memories

My hands found their home immediately as soon as I sat down on the bench, fingers sliding on the cool keys before a song came to mind. Outside it was nearing dusk, the air cooling after a hot summer day, making the music room soft and welcoming. I didn’t like having a set time for practice, I didn’t like going into practice with a set schedule and on what needed practice the most. No, I liked sitting down randomly and playing whatever came to mind. A lot of people say that musicians are the most disciplined people out there, fine-tuning their ability every chance they get.

But no, I found that I don’t like schedules or plans when it came to playing the piano or viola. I played whatever came to heart or mind. If I heard a little bit of a classical piece earlier in the day, I played that before finding the sheet music for it and fiddling around with the technique. I was in no right way, a disciplined musician.

But she loved me all the same. The music I could make was just a bonus to her.

The bench now had a cushion on it, a square fluffy one made out of an old t-shirt and stuffed with the stuffing from old plush animals. Innovative and very DIY. It was lumpy and lopsided but I didn’t dare tell her that when she gifted it to me. She was  _ very _ proud of her DIY creations and I didn’t have the heart to tell her to just go out and buy the things she wanted to create.

I slowed the tempo down after the crescendos, knowing that this particular piece was one of her favorites.

Soft footsteps could be heard coming down the hall, and I saw fingers grip the door frame before brown curls appeared. A smile effortlessly appearing on my lips as she edged closer into the room.

“I swear you play this song whenever you want me away from YouTube.”

“DIY or die, isn’t that what you say?”

I could see the eye roll now, feel it almost. But I kept playing, slowing the tempo back down when I felt my fingers get ahead of themselves.

“You know I just like watching you and your  _ magical _ fingers.” I shook my head slowly as I kept playing, fingers slipping once at her words.

“Now is  _ not _ the time, babe.”

“But you do play this beautifully, it’s hauntingly enchanting.”

“Chopin does that.”

“Especially the slower bits, really gets you in the feels, eh?”

“ _ Poco ritard. _ ” I dared a glance up at her, seeing her light blue eyes alight with mischief.

“No understando, dear babe-o.”

She was all fashion and writing, seizing the day with her outfits and hardened looks. While I was the girl in the back of the classroom, trying to stay invisible and get through high school without much damage.

But the hot girl had a secret, she also wanted to be invisible. So much so, she was willing to do anything for it. Like...fall in love with me.

She had her own flat, stating that her parents were well off and wanted nothing to do with her other than get her by in high school and ship her off to college. They both lived in town, well just outside of town, she said. Not much was proven on her part for them, she stated facts and everyone believed them.

“ _ Poco rall. _ ”

She shook her head, quiet now. I looked back down at the keys and the light switched on me. The sun was coming from the left side of the room as if it was just rising.

“You do play so beautifully in the mornings, love.”

“Need to get the sleep out of my system.”

The light changed again, this time the only source of light was coming from the two tall lamps in the corners. The keys were in shadows but I knew them by heart now, the middle C had a chip in it, so Marg knew where it was.

“I do believe that is the third time I’ve heard you play this song today. You love it.”

“Not as much as you do.”

“Oh! So you’re playing it to get in my pants, eh?”

“I play it...because it reminds me of you. And your beauty.”

“You wouldn’t need reminding if you looked away from those damn keys.” I laughed at her, still playing slowly. But an ache started in my chest, I thought it was an asthma attack, but it was different. Like it wasn’t there, to begin with. A phantom ache.

“If I were to look at you, I wouldn’t be able to pull my eyes away.” A hand landed on my shoulder, and fingers grazed my cheek opposite. I leaned into her touch and closed my eyes as I kept playing. Her warmth spread across my back as she pressed herself into me, her breath tickling my neck as she leaned down to kiss my ears softly. The ache grew in my chest and I felt tears pricking the back of my eyes.

This moment was the most beautiful moment ever. I would live in this moment a thousand lifetimes over if they were to let me.

“I-.”

“ _ Con Forza _ .”

“-love-”

“ _ Stretto. _ ”

“-you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut as the crescendo lasted longer than I would’ve liked, tears escaping still, making hot streams down my face as I played as forcefully as I could. My fingers hitting the keys hard, making them ache as well as I let myself cry now.

I knew the room was not the room in my memories, I knew the piano I played was not the one in my memories. I knew everything in this moment was someplace new and fresh. Nothing tainted by the memory of her.

But yet, when I opened my eyes, I swear I could see her smile across the way. Her eyes squinting at me as she applauded loudly for me. But I was alone in this silent room, my eyes stinging as I kept looking around for her before finishing the song.

I had to see her, I could never finish the song without her smile in front of me. And if she wasn’t here for me to look at, would I ever be able to finish the song properly? My fingers stiffened and the aching pain throbbed back into my previously broken knuckles. The song is still unfinished as I jerked my hands backward and nearly slipped off the bench. Sound reverberating in the room, echoing off the walls sardonically back at me, pleading to be finished once and for all.

The light was returned to dusk in the room, slightly darker now. And I knew in my heart it wasn’t going to happen, I was never going to finish playing this song. She was gone.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Based loosely on a situation that happened to me lol I was in love with a girl at the peak of my piano playing career, and it reminded me of Sansa and Marg? Are good memories of bad people okay to cry about 10 years later? lol
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


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